


Catch Me

by Miya_Morana



Series: Winter Retreat [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M, creepy Peter hitting on teenagers, vague mention of past abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-06
Updated: 2012-09-06
Packaged: 2017-11-13 16:29:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/505492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miya_Morana/pseuds/Miya_Morana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Isaac can't sleep, Peter is amused, and Derek and Stiles should learn to close their door.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Catch Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [entanglednow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/entanglednow/gifts).



> I blame this one entirely on entangled_now. Huge thanks to maybemalapert for the beta, she made this so much better than it was!

Isaac is happy for Derek and Stiles. No, really, he is. They’re great for each other, Stiles brings out Derek’s deadpan sense of humor as well as makes him look more closely at the way he treats people. Derek tempers down Stiles’s exuberance and makes him want to surpass himself. They balance each other out and never take crap from the other. Plus, they deserve to be happy.

So yes, Isaac is very glad to know that Derek and Stiles are probably sleeping in each other’s arms right now (and he’s also glad that the walls are thick enough to make it possible to tune them out earlier that night, when they were definitely not sleeping). He just wishes that it didn’t mean he has to share a room with Peter.

They say Peter’s much better now than when he was a psychotic serial killer (and who would have thought that spending some time in Lydia Martin’s brain could actually make someone _more human_?), but Isaac still thinks he’s creepy as hell. Isaac knows about creepy and damaged. He’s seen it up-close with his dad, though Peter’s personal brand of madness is very different. Less ‘I can’t stand that you know what I did’ and more ‘I want to eat you up, but I haven’t made up my mind if it’s in a sexy way or a murderous way, because both would be fun’. 

Though lately Peter’s been hinting at the first option much more frequently, and it’s making Isaac all kinds of uncomfortably stressed out. Especially right now, with Peter utterly naked in the bed next to his.

Isaac’s been staring at the ceiling for the last four hours. Every time he closes his eyes he’s afraid that Peter might sneak into his bed if he falls asleep. Which is probably stupid, but he can’t help it.

There’s the rustling sound of sheets and Isaac tenses, but Peter’s only turning under his covers. Isaac takes a deep breath to calm his nerves, tries to think of happy thoughts. Like Scott’s eyes when he looks at Allison. Or Stiles’s laugh. Or Erica’s adorable pout. Or Danny under the shower. Okay, maybe not that one, because the last thing he wants is Peter smelling him get aroused. 

There’s another rustle of sheets and Isaac stays carefully still, all his senses on alert. Peter’s breathing settles back to its regular pace. He’s still asleep. Isaac turns to his side and starts watching the wall instead of the ceiling. His life’s unfair.

***

“‘Morning Isaac!” Stiles beams, dropping on the chair in front of him at the breakfast table.

Isaac looks up from his plate of omelette and bacon and smiles tentatively, because it’s impossible not to respond to Stiles’s obvious great mood.

“Dude, you look terrible,” Stiles says, grabbing the orange juice and pouring two glasses. 

Isaac can hear someone in the kitchen, most likely Derek, breaking eggs over a pan. He lets his head drop down against the table and sighs.

“Didn’t sleep,” he whines just as Peter comes in. He knows, because he can smell him. Sometimes, he really hates being a werewolf.

“Come on, Stiles,” Peter says, walking closer to Isaac and putting a hand on the back of his chair. “Don’t look at me like this. I swear I haven’t touched him yet.”

“Yet?” Isaac repeats, head snapping up and turning to look at Peter.

Peter raises an eyebrow. “Of course. We’re doing trust falls this afternoon. I’m pretty sure there will be some touching required if I am to catch you.”

Isaac really hates his life. It must show on his face, because Stiles pats his hand in sympathy.

“We can still switch rooms, you know. If he gets too... _Peter-y_ ,” Stiles offers, ignoring Peter’s falsely offended huff.

Peter drags out the chair next to Isaac and drops down on it. Isaac grits his teeth, slightly tempted to accept the offer, but shakes his head.

“I’ll survive,” he says. “Plus, I don’t want to take the risk of walking in on you and Derek getting to know each other better.” Isaac smirks at Stiles, who’s caught half-way between looking embarrassed and proud. It’s adorable.

“Really?” Peter asks. “I personnally wouldn’t mind the show that much.” He sounds unbelievably sultry.

“Peter,” Derek grits out.

The Alpha is standing in the doorway, a frying pan in one hand and a spatula in another, and yet he still manages to radiate authority as he glares at his uncle. Peter just shrugs, leaning back on his chair.

“Good morning, Derek. I trust you slept well.”

Derek’s jaw tightens, but he just sighs. Deeply and aggressively. Then he slides a huge omelette and six sausages on Stiles’s plate before disappearing into the kitchen again. He comes back less than thirty seconds later and sits down next to Stiles, wrapping an arm around Stiles’s shoulders, and grabs a fork.

Isaac watches them eat their breakfast from the same plate, Derek still occasionally glaring at Peter while Stiles mostly focuses on the food in front of him. He doesn’t miss the small smiles that stretch their lips every time their eyes meet or their forks clink against each other. 

Isaac’s half expecting Peter to comment on how sickeningly sweet this is (he always does when it’s Scott and Allison), but the older werewolf is strangely silent. Whether this is because Derek is the pack’s Alpha or because Peter actually _likes_ his nephew, he’s not sure. In any case, it’s good, Isaac decides. Derek and Stiles deserve a little bit of happiness.

He risks a glance in Peter’s direction and catches the hint of a soft smile at the corner of his mouth, gone the instant Peter notices Isaac’s looking at him. Isaac really doesn’t know what to make of that.

***

“Whose stupid idea was this again?” Erica complains as Isaac catches her easily. “Most of us have supernatural reflexes, of _course_ we’ll catch each other.”

“Deaton’s,” Isaac says with a shrug, turning his back on Erica. “It’s not about the catching though, it’s about trusting your partner.”

“But we’re pack,” she says, and Isaac can hear her pout. “Trust’s a given.”

“It hasn’t always been. You know that.” _You left_ , he doesn’t say. That was a long time ago. Things have changed, and for the best, mostly.

Isaac lets himself fall backwards, resisting the instinct to turn around, to catch himself with his hands. He falls and falls and for a second wonders if Erica’s going to let him hit the ground because he was stupid enough to remind her of that terrible mistake she made all these months ago.

But no, Erica’s hands are there, grabbing his shoulders maybe a bit too tight and pulling him up in a sharp, strong shove. Isaac looks back at her, and he doesn’t have to say “sorry” because Erica can read him like a book, which is annoying most of the time, but not now. Now it’s good, because the corner of her lip rises up and she playfully hits his shoulder before moving towards Scott.

Isaac knows who his new partner is before he turns around. It’s not even that he recognizes Peter’s scent. They’re all in the same room, with the windows tightly closed to ward off the epic snowstorm still raging outside, so the whole room just smells of _pack_. But somehow, he still knows. 

And sure enough, Peter’s there, smiling charmingly at him. Isaac sighs.

“Come on, Isaac, the thought of falling into my arms cannot be _this_ unbearable,” he says, openning said arms wide, invitingly.

“You go first,” Isaac replies, and Peter’s smile just grows wider.

Catching him is easy, just like catching Erica or Scott has been. Peter lets himself fall without a second thought and lands almost boneless in Isaac’s arms. But when it comes to Isaac... Well, let’s say that it’s less easy. Not that he thinks Peter might let him fall, but because he fears the way Peter might catch him. Still, he has to do it.

Closing his eyes, Isaac tips backwards, bracing himself. Peter catches him pretty early on in his fall, his hands grabbing Isaac’s hips as Isaac’s shoulders hit his chest. Isaac’s eyes flutter open in surprise and he stares up at Peter, head tilted to glare at him

“Got you,” Peter smiles, waggling his fingers on Isaac’s hips, and Isaac jerks forward because _hell no_!

He hears Peter chuckle, amused, but doesn’t turn back, just walks towards Lydia. Who’s looking amusedly at where Peter’s joined Jackson, and okay, Isaac kind of wants to see that too. Jackson’s face as Peter’s arms wrap around him when he catches him is absolutely priceless.

***

Isaac kicked Boyd out of the kitchen a little while ago because he’d needed to have some time alone. Even though werewolves need their packs, thrive on spending time together, sometimes Isaac just needs to retreat into his own personal bubble for a little while. He’s already feeling better, like recharged, ready to spend the evening with his pack, hopefully roping more people into playing board games after dinner.

Even alone he can hear the pack around the house, their presence familiar and comfortable. The girls are chatting excitedly in Allison’s bedroom, he doesn’t know what about but it doesn’t matter. Derek and Stiles are in their own room, speaking in low voices that Isaac’s hearing barely picks up. The guys are in the living room, but one of them is walking towards the kitchen, and Isaac resigns himself to the end of his alone time.

He’s stirring the tomato sauce when Peter walks in, hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans. Isaac ignores him, or tries to, and brings the spoon to his lips, taking a taste. It needs a little bit more oregano, and maybe a touch of soja to give it more character.

“What do you want?” he asks as Peter leans against the dishwasher, next to the stove.

“I was bored,” Peter replies with honesty - his heartbeat doesn’t lie. “I was wondering if you needed _a hand_.” And only Peter could manage to make these words sound so suggestive.

“Why do you keep doing this?” Isaac breathes out, fighting the blush threatening to take over his whole face.

He looks at Peter then, not really expecting him to answer but genuinely curious. Peter cocks his head on the side, like he’s thinking over what to say, and his expression softens just a little.

“Because it’s fun, mostly,” he says with a small shrug. “Because I like keeping you on your toes. All of you. And I’d rather have you worried about me letting my hand linger on someone’s arm for too long than about me suddenly snapping someone’s neck. Which was how you all looked at me at first.”

“So it’s a distraction tactic?” Isaac asks, raising an eyebrow as he grabs the oregano in the spice rack.

“That was the point at first. But now I mostly just find it highly amusing,” he smirks, leaning closer to Isaac.

Isaac isn’t sure what to say to that. But he doesn’t have to say anything, because the sudden surprised moan that rings through the house before the door to Derek and Stiles’s room shuts in a loud ‘bang’ makes him jump hard enough that his elbow hits the saucepan and makes it spill its content all over them. Well, mostly all over Peter, but also on Isaac’s shirt.

It’s hot, burning Isaac’s skin through the fabric, and Peter makes this hissing sound through his teeth, ripping his shirt off, and Isaac remembers that the guy had been set on fire. Twice.

“I’m so sorry, so so sorry,” he apologizes clumsily. He flinches away when he sees Peter’s eyes turn electric blue, afraid for a second that the pain has pushed him over the edge, that Peter might lash out at him, like his father used to do when Isaac would drop things.

Peter takes a deep breath, obviously calming himself, and his eyes go back from werewolf blue to human blue. “Not your fault,” he grits out between his teeth, and damn, he sounds just like Derek when he does that. “Well, _mostly_ not your fault.”

“Sorry,” Isaac says again. “If we put the clothes in the laundry machine right way, it shouldn’t stain?”

And that’s how he ends up half-naked in the laundry room with Peter Hale, who’s wearing nothing but boxer shorts and socks. Because Isaac’s life is just that weird. He presses a couple of buttons and the laundry-machine starts. Isaac shoves his hands in his pockets and turns to face Peter, who’s playing with his iPhone. For a guy who spent six years in a catatonic sate, he sure caught up fast with technology.

Peter catches his eyes and smirks. “Like what you see?” he asks, leering.

“It’s not that bad,” Isaac shrugs, “but I’ve seen better.” 

He’s feeling bolder somehow, like someone hit a switch in his brain. Maybe he doesn’t feel as threatened by the older werewolf anymore now that he’s heard from Peter’s own mouth that it’s all just a game, like they already all suspected. He probably shouldn’t trust this new calmness, but he wants to. 

“Have you now?” Peter raises an eyebrow at him.

“Yup,” Isaac replies, leaning against the laundry-machine. “I’m sorry to say, but I prefer my guys younger, for once.”

“So you do prefer men,” Peter smirks, and he’s standing much closer to Isaac now. Isaac blushes slightly.

“You already knew that,” he says, soflty.

“I had suspicions, but it’s nice to know I was right.”

“Guys?” Scott’s voice calls from the hallway. They can hear his footsteps coming closer as he continues, “Why is there a mess in the ki- oh my God!”

Scott is standing in the doorway, mouth hanging open, looking all sorts of horrified. Isaac is kind of frozen in place while Peter just leans a little bit more towards Isaac as he looks at Scott, and _okay_ , Isaac maybe sees the appeal of freaking everyone out once in a while, because this? Is hilarious.

“What can we do for you, Scott?” Peter asks, calm and collected.

“I, um, there’s a mess in the kitchen, and I was looking for Isaac,” Scott babbles.

“Yeah,” Isaac says, “there was kind of an accident and the sauce ended up everywhere. That’s why our clothes are in there.” He taps the laundry-machine behind him.

Peter seems to decide to put Scott out of his misery, because he steps back from where he was crowding Isaac and tosses him his phone.

“Hold on to this while I go get some new clothes. Since apparently I’m not your type, what’s the point of having you stare at my body, right?”

Isaac catches the phone one-handed and Scott looks incredibly relieved. That is, until Peter trails a hand along his arm as he passes him at the door, eyes flashing bright blue for a second. Scott gulps.

“Anyways, sorry about dinner,” says Isaac to cut through the uncomfortable silence afterwards. “I’ll have to restart the sauce from scratch, so you can tell everyone we’re not eating until later.”

“No problem man,” Scott replies, shaking himself slightly. He leaves, then, maybe so he can go and pretend he never saw any of this.

Isaac guesses he should go put on a new shirt too and head back to the kitchen, but then the phone in his hand vibrates and he looks down at it. It’s a reflex, really, and it’s not his fault if iPhones show the beginning of text messages, now, is it?

 _I’m already missing our afternoon coffees..._ it says. And it’s from Melissa McCall. Scott’s mom. Holly shit.

Isaac finds Peter in their room, finishing to put on a shirt. He closes the door behind him and waves the phone in front of the other werewolf.

“You’re having coffee with Scott’s _mom_?” he hisses between his teeth, low enough than unless Scott happens to be right outside their door he shouldn’t be able to hear.

“Why, jealous?” Peter replies with a mocking smile, but his eyes are kind of wide and the volume of his voice matches Isaac’s.

“Peter,” Isaac snaps, and Peter sighs.

“Yes, I am. Twice a week, sometimes more. Not that it’s any of your business.” Peter unlocks his phone and reads the complete message. The smile on his lips is softer than any smile of Peter’s Isaac has ever seen before.

“Oh,” Isaac says, surprised. Then he smiles. Because yeah, Peter might be a bit creepy, but he’s proven over the last year that he isn’t _really_ such a bad guy when he’s not out for vengeance. And after all the man has gone through, he deserves a little bit of happiness too. As long as Mrs. McCall knows what she’s getting into. “Maybe you should stop flirting with everyone, you know, if that’s... Well if that’s happening. Especially with Scott.”

“Don’t tell him,” Peter says with a smirk. “I want to see his face when I stop by to pick her up for dinner one of these days. For real, this time.”

“On one condition,” Isaac says with a somewhat sly smile.

“And what would that be?” Peter asks, raising an elegant eyebrow.

“That you tell me beforehand so I can find an excuse to be at Scott’s that night.”

Peter’s smile is downright devious. “Deal.”


End file.
